


wild wolf

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20ish!Brandon Stark x Older Teen!Petyr Baelish</p><p>Brandon is called the Wild Wolf - he sees, he wants, he takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wild wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Robert's Rebellion - the Tullys and Petyr visit Winterfell. Petyr mouths off to Brandon and Brandon decides to fuck him because, hey, porn without plot.

“ _Stop,_ ” Petyr sobbed as he was flipped onto his back, his eyes welling with tears. Stark ignored the younger man’s plea and began to rub himself against Petyr’s opening. The Valeman flushed and his body tensed, “Please, stop,” he repeated. Brandon made a shushing sound, something that would have been comforting if he did not wrap his hands around Petyr’s throat in the same motion.

“Be quiet, boy,” Brandon said, though without any true heat. He took his thumb and idly stroked the younger’s throat. Petyr swallowed thickly and the Northerner watched the shifting line with keen interest.

“Gods,” Stark breathed out, “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Petyr sobbed again, this time muffled, and shook his head. His unshed tears fell when the Wild Wolf pushed into him, entering the Valeman with a ridiculous amount of ease. The squelching sound of his well-oiled hole made Petyr shiver and flush with shame. For one so rash, Brandon Stark had been surprisingly fastidious about lubricating Petyr’s entrance.

“Gods be good,” Brandon groaned, lowering his head to pant into the warm flesh of Petyr’s neck. Stark rolled his hips - once, twice - and then began to move in earnest. Petyr let out an inelegant squeak but swiftly silenced the sound with a bite to his lips. “None of that,” Brandon said sharply, his voice like gravel against Petyr’s throat, “I want to hear your sounds.”

He gave a deep thrust and this time Petyr did not try to contain the moan that left his mouth. It was light and breathy and made a wolfish grin appear on Brandon Stark’s face. They continued this pattern for a short while, Stark thrusting in and settling somewhere deep within Petyr while the latter whimpered or made some other obscene noise in return. Eventually, the Wild Wolf found a pace to his liking. It was faster and rougher than Petyr would have chosen but it made his head spin nonetheless.

“Open your eyes,” Brandon commanded, “Look at me.”

Petyr opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them at all. He regretted the decision right away. He loathed the man but right now, the heir of Winterfell was a sight to behold. Brandon’s hair hung around his handsome face like a dark halo and his eyes were like liquid steel. He was the wet dream of every maiden in the realm and probably entered the dreams of some men as well.

Petyr’s reaction must have been something sweet, as Stark grinned his wolfish grin and bent his head to bite down on one of Petyr’s flushed nipples. He was careful not to pierce the soft sensitive skin but the Valeman groaned and squirmed all the same.

“So lovely,” Brandon panted as he released the nub of flesh, “So lovely and _all mine_.”

He emphasized those last words with particularly deep and savage thrusts. It was then that Petyr came over his belly with a tremulous wail but Brandon did not stop moving. He continued to slide in and out of Petyr as if nothing had happened. Petyr, hypersensitive from his orgasm, let out a low keen.

“No,” he said, feebly trying to push the larger man off, “No more.”

“Hush,” Brandon replied and removed his hands from the Valeman’s throat. They found Petyr’s hands and pressed their palms together, intertwining their fingers. His hands seemed to be much bigger than Petyr’s. Brandon Stark rolled his hips as he had done before and Petyr writhed, though he could not do anything with Stark’s hands pressed so firmly into his.

Brandon continued to piston his hips, Petyr shuddering underneath him all the while.

“I haven’t come yet,” Brandon said, as if it were the simplest thing in all of Westeros. His eyes raked over Petyr’s trembling form, flushed from sex and his seed spilt on his belly. Stark smiled, smooth and languid, before leaning down to plunder Petyr’s mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN BRANDON FUCKS PETYR UNTIL HE PASSES OUT, FUCKS HIM UNTIL HE WAKES UP, AND THEN FUCKS HIM AGAIN BEFORE KISSING HIM DEEP AND SWEET BEFORE LEAVING THE ROOM LIKE A FUCKING SEX GOD. AND PETYR IS BONELESS AND HAS BRANDON’S COME LEAKING OUT OF HIM BUT HE CAN’T EVEN GET UP BECAUSE, WOW, WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
> 
> AND THE NEXT DAY, BRANDON FINDS PETYR BY HIS LONESOME AND MAKES HIM GET ON HIS KNEES AND PUT HIS PRETTY LIPS AROUND BRANDON’S COCK. AND PETYR’S NEVER GIVEN HEAD BEFORE SO HE CHOKES AND HIS EYES WATER BUT HE KEEPS DOING IT BECAUSE THE WHOLE WHILE, BRANDON MAKES THESE LITTLE REASSURING NOISES AND PETS PETYR’S HAIR AND PETYR DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW WHY BUT HE WANTS TO HEAR THAT, NEEDS TO HEAR THAT AND EVERYTHING AFTERWARDS IS DIRTYBADWRONG FUCKING AWESOME SMUT.


End file.
